


Dancing In The Dark;

by thescroller



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cheating, F/M, Hurt Dean Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-19 03:50:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16526744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescroller/pseuds/thescroller
Summary: You made a mistake last night.. you went home with a married man. A man whom you had crushed on since your first day at work, a man who you knew had secrets, a man whose wife had invited you over to dinner time and time again.So how did the two of you end up in bed last night?





	1. 1

**Prologue**

Dean Winchester was the kind of guy a lot of girls pined after. You just knew without asking that he had probably broken several hearts back in the days before he got married to Lisa; hell, even Lisa had once admitted that he had broken her heart when he skipped out on town for the “family business” before resurfacing only in the last two years.

None of that stopped the excited way your heart would race anytime Winchester was near you.

You always thought you had been good at hiding your feelings for the man, because after all it was just a silly little work crush. But apparently it hadn’t been good enough as you found yourself hiding out in your bathroom, silently freaking out about how he was currently sprawled out in your bed more exposed than you had ever thought was possible.

_What the fuck did I just do?_

Trying to replay the events of the night before, you remembered it had been a usual after work bar crawl with all the usual crew. Something you had done with Dean time and time again, so at one point did you say “fuck it” and throw all caution to the wind? At what point did Maryellen leave you long enough for you to even make such a bold decision?

Your phone vibrates on the sink in front of you; a certain someone’s beloved wife’s name popping up on the screen with the words new text message scrolled out underneath. If you weren’t close to having a heart attack before, you certainly were going to have one now.

_‘Hey Y/N, Dean didn’t come home last night and his phone appears to be dead. Have you seen him?’_

How the hell would you even reply to that? Just a casual, _“oh yeah, he’s currently sleeping buck naked in my bed. I’ll send him on his way shortly.”_

Groaning, you leaned forward until your forehead came in contact with the cool mirror. You wished you could blame this on alcohol, but the reality of it all was that you let the flirting get too far. You egged it on until there was only tension between the two of you; the kind of tension that the flame of an innocent kiss could destroy.

You tiptoed back over to where the door was cracked open, peeking your gaze through to see if Dean was still passed out enough that maybe you could snake on by and save face until Monday. Just like everything in life, you were just never that lucky.

“Mornin’” he whispered quietly while avoiding your gaze and beginning the slow process of gathering his clothes.

“Morning,” you answered, matching his hushed tone. Watching him pick up each article of clothing like it was booby trapped was kind of just digging the knife deeper.

Neither of you said a thing while he got dressed, you still standing in your bathroom, pretending to fidget with the strings on your robe until you were sure that there was no unwanted bare skin to distract you. He cleared his throat when he finished tying up the last knot of his work boots. “So, I should probably get going.”

You nodded your head in agreement. “That’s probably a good idea. Lisa already texted me asking if I knew where you were.”

His head shot up. “What did you say?”

“I honestly didn’t answer,” you said dryly with a small shrug.

The relief was evident on his face before he ran a hand over it. A hangover probably felt better than what he was going through. “Yeah, yeah. That was probably a better idea.”

A moment of awkward silence fell into the room; a room that only a couple of hours ago had been filled with the sounds of incredible passion. The bite marks on your chest were enough to prove you hadn’t dreamt it.

Dean stood up, his tall frame towering over your bed as he stepped towards you, falling short in his tracks. “Well, I guess I’ll see you Monday.”

“Yeah, Winchester. I’ll see ya on Monday.”


	2. 2.

The clock was still slowly ticking by and you were itching to get the hell out of dodge. 

Monday had come and went quicker than you had thought and Dean had barely been able to look in your direction. It was something that definitely didn’t go unnoticed by your co-workers, seeing as you had been at work for an hour and someone had already make the joke about the two of you having trouble in paradise. 

You had been sitting in the breakroom on your lunch break, absently stirring a black cup of coffee in the hopes that it would at least get you out of this funk, but all your mind kept circling back to was the same thing that had been pestering you all weekend- the fact that you had slept with one of your best friends. Your best friend who was married. 

As if on cue and deep voice broke through the fog. “Hey Y/N/N.” 

“Winchester,” you nodded, peeling your eyes away from the table just long enough to catch a glimpse of how tired he looked. 

His eyes scanned the room carefully before he came and sat down next to you at the small little table, despite the fact that there was two open chairs directly across from you. “Um, how was your weekend?” 

You kept stirring your coffee slowly, like maybe if you stirred fast enough it could suck you into it’s little whirlpool and away from this situation you had gotten yourself into. “It was pretty boring. Just got some housework done and binged some Netflix shows.” 

“No hot date, huh?” 

Leaning back, you squint over your mug at him. “Are we really doing this right now Dean? We really going to pretend like everything is back to normal?” 

He looked momentarily taken about, like maybe he really thought that things could just be that simple. “I-I just thought..” he sighed and ran his hand through his hair, looking across the room to the empty door where Zach had just zoomed by. “I don’t know. I was hoping it would be easier that way.” 

Your heart clenched at the fact that he was basically saying that he wanted to pretend like Friday night had never happened - which, yes, you knew deep down that it should have never happened, but it still hurt. It’s not like Dean knew that you had feelings for him anyway. 

“Nothing is going to be easier about this.” 

There was a shift in the way he was sitting and you were aware that his elbows were digging into the soft wood of the table, but his chin was pointed at you. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

He was so casual about it. With a pointed look back at him, you raised an eyebrow unsure why he would suggest such a thing.  “Do you?” 

His green eyes searched your face for several minutes. You couldn’t help but notice the way that his tongue trailed along his bottom lip absently; making you ache for him all over again. “I do. I really think we need to talk about what happened.” 

Nodding, you went back to focusing on your coffee and not the way your stomach was churning. “I figured as much. But I really don’t want to talk about it at work.” 

“What about Thursday?”

You never really had plans other than working, catching up on sleep and some occasional late nights with the work crew or your two best friends. Your last relationship had been well over a year ago and was purely just of the physical kind, so you were literally always free. Dean knew that.

“I guess Thursday works.” 

“One other thing,” he shifted his weight causing the seat to screech uncomfortably under him. “Uh, Lisa wanted me to invite you over to dinner tomorrow night. We’re have spaghetti and garlic bread.” 

The coffee was losing its hold on you as the pit of your stomach knotted at the thought of having to see Dean and his wife, sitting side by side at the table and knowing that you could be that wedge between them. 

“Dean.. I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Please?” His voice was soft, almost pleading. “It would be a little weirder if you didn’t come.”

Damn him and his stupidly beautiful green eyes. “Fine, fine,” you sat back throwing your hands up to prove that he didn’t have to keep asking. “I’m assuming I need to be there at 6?”

“Same time as always,” he nodded, looking away to steal a glance at the clock before pushing himself away from the table with the palms of his hands to get up.

For the first time in the last ten minutes or so, you allowed yourself to look at Dean Winchester and all his glory. His muscles moved with precision under his black cotton t-shirt, his jeans fit snugly around his waist giving his ass and legs even more definition. That jaw lined with just the perfect amount of scruff from most likely forgetting to shave earlier that morning. It was no wonder you and just about every other girl out there had been out under his spell; only you thought you had been different - different enough to not fall under him. 

Unaware that he had caught you staring, those pouty lips of his were twisted into a cocky little smirk. His eyes danced as he leaned forward, placing one palm flat on the table surface and bringing the other towards your cheek. The heat that immediately rushed towards your face was bordering on scalding until he reached for a tuft of your untamed hair, pulling it so that he could tucked it behind your ear where it belonged. 

“I’ll see you around,” he spoke, once again speaking just above a whisper. 

You swore when you blinked, he was gone only leaving you feeling flushed and dazed in his wake. Just like always with that man. 

“What the hell was that all about?”

Jumping in your seat, you turned around to see your best friend Maryellen standing there, an empty coffee mug in hand and her eyebrows raised so high, they were practically lost in her hair. She always knew of your little crush on Dean and even called it sick that you used to spend time at their house with his ‘happy little family.’

“What was what about?” You asked while steadily standing up and making your way over to the break room sink - deciding that the coffee was now a lost cause.

Maryellen kept her gaze on you and you knew that she was all too aware of the way you were avoiding hers. “Don’t you play coy with me.”

“I’m not playing anything.”

“Sure,” you heard the coffee pot clicked as it was removed from the burner. “It’s fine. I know you’ll eventually cave and tell me.” 

God, you hoped she was wrong. 


	3. 4.

**4.**

Honest to god, you tried to think of every excuse in the book to get out of going tonight. You thought about texting Lisa and saying that you were feeling under the weather, but knowing her, she’d probably send Dean over with some soup. Then you thought about just pretending you had forgotten about your agreement to go, but that went out the window when Dean saw you leaving yesterday and stated that he’d be “seeing you tomorrow, right?”

It was like even in the made up situations you tried using to not go, there was always a version of Dean that you knew how get you there.

“It’s just dinner,” you muttered to yourself after staring up at the well lit house you had been parked in front of for a good five minutes. “I just have to get through dinner.”

Muttering some other reassuring reminders to yourself as you got out of the car before reaching back in for your purse and the plate of cookies that you had stressed baked while counting down the seconds to this horrible night ahead of you. You decided that you needed to get all your stress cursing out of the way too, so you continued to mumble to yourself even after you had rung the doorbell.

“Y/N,” an elated Lisa greeted you at the door. Her smile widening as she saw your plate of snickerdoodles that had been hastily wrapped in plastic and thrown on the first plate you could find that was wide enough to hold all of them. “I’m so happy you came tonight.”

“Like I could miss spaghetti night,” you managed to squeeze out with a thin smile.

She gave you a quick laugh, the kind that tinkered its way throughout the house well after it had happened. With a swoop of her arm, Lisa managed to snag the plate of sweet treats away from you and usher you into the house and towards the kitchen where you could only pray their would be some kind of alcohol for you to drown in.

You heard her delicate footsteps as she trailed ahead of you. “Hey guys, look what Y/N brought.”

Much to your surprise, you were greeted with several new faces you had never seen before. There appeared to be two other couples crowded around the kitchen island, shoulders smushed together while they gushed over what looked like cheese and crackers and one lone gentleman off towards the kitchen table, eyeing the wine selection that had been laid out.

And no sign of Dean which you thought was a little odd, but decided not to focus on that in the moment.

Lisa disappeared behind the crowd before you, leaving you to offer a small and awkward wave to them before she emerged with an empty wine glass. She came up next to you, placing a hand on the small of your back and using the wine glass to point to each person accordingly. “This is our neighbors Steve and Pamela, then we have two of my colleagues Haydee and Jose.”

Her arm trailed away from the happy couples smiling back at you to the red headed lone wolf pouring himself a hefty glass of wine. “That’s Noah,” she leaned forward now, firmly placing the stem of the wine glass in your hand and dropping her voice so that only you could hear. “He’s single.”

 _Yep, totally should have stayed home tonight,_ you thought as Lisa practically pushed you in the direction of her kitchen table. _This appears to be some sort of planned set up._

Walking hesitantly to where Noah was secluding himself from the group, you tried to focus on not tripping when you could very much feel how everyone else was looking the two of you. “Noah?”

You were met with dark eyes as he turned, making you realize that he wasn’t much taller than you were; and nothing compared to the way that Dean always seemed to tower over you. “Yeah?”

“Oh, uhm, Lisa was just introducing me to everyone and to be totally honest,” you gave a nervous giggle. “I think they are trying to set us up.”

His nose scrunched up as the wine glass pulled away from the thin line of his mouth. You studied him, realizing that his auburn hair didn’t really follow through on his patchy facial hair - which was actually more of a mustache. “What makes you think that?”

“Really?” You paused to see if something would click, but Noah continued to look at you blankly. “I don’t even have to turn around to know that everyone is watching us right now.”

He offered you a lazy sort of shrug before bringing his glass back up to his lips. “I mean I guess it would explain,” he paused to swallow, “why Lisa was so adamant on me coming tonight.”

Everything about the awkwardness of this conversation was making your skin crawl. The whole situation was just ridiculous, really. Deciding to appease your onlookers would help a little bit, you put your glass on the table and asked Noah to pour you a large glass of whatever he was drinking while you ran off to use the powder room.

You’d been inside the Winchester’s house enough, that you knew exactly which bathroom to run off and hide in; the one in the foyer, tucked directly under the main staircase. Just as you had swung open the door, did you hear heavy footsteps thud their way down above you.

“Hey,” a familiar out of breath voice spoke. “I didn’t know you were here.”

Turning away from the door now, you eyed the gathering of now laughing people from where the two of your were standing. “Oh, yeah, I got here just a couple of minutes ago.”

Dean nodded his head absently while his eyes roamed you from head to toe. You didn’t know this was going to be a chance for Lisa to play matchmaker, so you had just worn what you always wore - a pair of skinny jeans and tank top with a large button up sweater. The sweater was more or less your security blanket that you could cling too when things got to be too much.

And the way he was looking at you was starting to be a little too much.

You pulled your sweater closer around you while shifting on the heels of your feet. “So, I, uh, met Noah.”

“Yeah?” His voice was soft again, almost like when you are talking to a child who just hurt themselves, but the look in his eyes was even softer. “What about him?”

His face didn’t change while you recounted the way that Lisa hinted about the fact that the redheaded man was single and stressed upon the fact that he really didn’t see all the interested to be here tonight to begin with. “So, like I always do, my response was to come and hide in the bathroom for a bit.”

Dean smirked and cocked his head to the side, stealing another glance at the direction where a loud burst of laughter had just erupted from. “Well Noah’s an idiot.”

“Oh?”

He shook his head like he was trying to clear his thoughts before scratching at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I don’t know, I’ve just never really liked the guy.”

“Interesting,” you nodded, not the least bit surprised that he wasn’t a fan of the only wet blanket in the other room.

“Besides, any guy that’s not interested in you is a moron.”

Your breath hitched as his words registered in your brain. “Excuse me?”

He sighed and took a tentative step towards you which in turn caused you to take a similar step back. The hurt from the fact that you stepped away from him was evident on his face. “I just.. I think any man that doesn’t see the beautiful, funny and brilliant woman you are just isn’t worth a moment of your time.”

Your back was literally against the wall as you looked up at Dean. His face was clean shaven, the five o’clock shadow that you were used to seeing most days at work completely gone making him look more vulnerable than you wanted. He was standing so close to you that you could smell the slight mintiness from his toothpaste which made you wonder how it tasted and the way his hair looked damp made you want to run your fingers through it.

“Dean?”

Both of your heads whipped towards Lisa’s voice which was followed by a head poke around the corner and questioning eyes. “Everything okay?”

Dean cleared his throat, taking a step back and offering his wife a tight smile. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine.”

You stole a glance at the man across from you before turning your attention back towards the raven haired woman to your right. Feigning a cough, you spoke, “I was actually just telling Dean that I wasn’t really feeling all that hot and would probably just duck out.”  
“Oh no,” Lisa took a step forward, her mouth developing into a deep frown. “I was hoping that you and Noah could really get to know each other. I know he’s not like the guys that you usually see, but he’s really sweet.”

Shaking your head, you gave her a sorry half-smile. “I know, he seems.. He seems really nice. But I don’t think it will be fair to expose you guys to this if it is contagious.”

“Fair enough,” she stated, reaching forward to give you a pat on the arm before turning towards her husband with a grin. “I’ll just make sure I send Dean over with some leftovers later.”

Your gaze shifted between the two of them, your chest suddenly burning with either the urge to cry or to actually throw up with your imaginary sickness. “Thanks, I’m sure dinner will be delicious.”

Practically running towards the door, Dean didn’t hesitate to follow your speed, stepping out into the chilly Michigan air without any delay. He reached for your arm as you continued to pretend you weren’t all too aware of exactly where he was, “Hey.”

“Yes Winchester?”

His hand stayed put, scorching it’s way through the thick fabric of your sweater. “I’ll be by around nine or ten, will that be okay?”

You shrugged, but he still didn’t let go. “I don’t think it’s the best idea, but it would be pointless to try and change your mind.”

He was silent, staring at you intensely as the sun started to disappear for the day.

“I think we can finally have some time to talk about what happened this weekend. I’ve got some things I need to get off my chest.”

Mouth feeling parched and a cool breeze sweeping its way across your face, you nodded your head slowly thankful for the chill and the way your hair was hiding the way your cheeks were blazing. “Yeah, I guess we just need to get this over with.” 


	4. 4.

**4.**

_10:25 pm_

Maybe, just maybe, Dean had decided that coming over tonight wasn’t a good idea. Maybe you’d actually be able to get some decent sleep without tossing and turning as you had been for the last couple of days. Maybe you’d be able to just get by pretending like nothing ever happened between the two of you.

You knew two of those three thoughts were just wishful thinking, especially because Dean was the one who had even suggested this idea of coming over to talk. And you knew with every fiber of your being it was a damned bad idea.

By the time eleven o’clock rolled around, you were brushing your teeth in the hopes of getting to crawl in to bed and prepare for the night of fitful sleeping before the busy day of booking appointments tomorrow; when there came a rapid knock on your front door.

Toothbrush still foaming at the mouth, you swung open the door to find a lopsided Dean standing with a large Tupperware container of what looked like chicken noodle soup.

Leaving the door open enough for him to walk in on his own, you walked yourself back to the bathroom to rinse up; which only took all of five seconds. “I was beginning to think that you weren’t coming,” you stated making your way into the living room where Dean was standing with his hands in his leather jacket pockets and the container teetering on the edge of the coffee table. Eying it, you asked, “What happened to leftover spaghetti?”

He gave you a shy smirk followed by his usual shrug. “I figured since you were sick, some soup would be the better option.”

“Dean, we both know that was a lie.”

His shoulders tensed up a bit as he shrugged his jacket off and plopped himself on the couch, looking like he belonged their with the rest of your furniture. “Yeah and maybe I just wanted an excuse not to socialize.”

Picking up the hefty container, you eyeballed it’s contents questionably. “Are you saying you made this?”

He stayed silent, watching you as you walked yourself into the kitchen to make room for this welcome little surprise in your fridge. When you made your way back over, his face was still somber. “Yeah, Y/N, I made you some soup. Nothing fancy, just what I used to make my little brother when he wasn’t feeling too hot.”

“Oh,” it was rare that Dean ever mentioned his younger brother, but whenever he did, his whole face would contort with something that looked like remorse. “Well, thank you Winchester.”

He practically grunted at you, scooting himself down more into the couch cushion. Finally getting a better look at the man sitting across from where you were standing in the living room, you noticed that his eyes looked a little more hooded than usual. “Are - are you drunk?”

“Maybe.”

You rolled your eyes. “Seriously?”

He sighed and shifted himself forward so that his elbows were resting on his knees as he rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, well Sid called me to see if I wanted to hit up a bar for a bit after the dinner party.”

“And what? You drank it?”

His sleepy eyes looked back up at to where you now stood looking over him like a disappointed mother, arms crossed and all. But that didn’t stop his cocky little smirk from making its appearance. “Maybe I felt like I needed it.”

You took a deep breath, making your way over to where he was sitting and joining him on the couch, pulling yourself in the opposite corner and crossing your legs. You knew you guys needed to talk, but you were hoping it would be more of a sober conversation. “I was really hoping we could be more coherent than this.”

“And I was thinking I needed a little bit more liquid courage than just some chicken noodle soup.”

“Dean..” you started followed by a deep breath knowing that you just had to say what needed to be said and get it over with. “What happened last Friday was a mistake.”

He shifted himself so that his body was facing you, hands clasping on to your knees aggressively while his eyes struggled to focus on your face. “No, no, Y/N, it wasn’t.”

As much as your heart yearned for him to say those words to you, you also knew that he was wrong. “Winchester, you are married. As in life or death, sickness and in health.”

For some odd reason, Dean snorted to himself. He removed his hands from your legs and stood up, this time starting to pacing in a straight line from the front door to where you were sitting. “Well apparently that doesn’t always apply.”

“What does that mean?” You asked with raised eyebrows.

“She cheated on me.” He blurted as he made his third lap from door to couch.

Time felt like it was ticking by ever so slowly as you tried to properly process what he had just confessed. Surely he didn’t mean Lisa, the same woman who seemed so normal and happy with her husband only hours ago.

“Who cheated on you?” Surely he was too far gone and recalling someone else prior to being married.

He paused his marching only to glare at you. “You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

His tone came out a little bit more aggressive than you were used to causing you to clamp your mouth shut. Even in his slightly more inebriated state, Dean seemed to realize that he had startled you which caused him to stop his insane movements and join you back on the couch, giving you all of his attention.

With his eyes trained on the way you were gripping your hands in your lap, he noticed that this was a hard pill for him to swallow. “Lisa.. Lisa cheated on me.”

Still keeping a wary eye on him, you chewed your bottom lip while you thought this through; well, separated through your thoughts and everything else that had been happening in the last six months. Where the signs there? There had to be something else going, like maybe he was just telling you what you wanted to hear in the hopes that you would stop feeling so guilty about what had happened.

“How do you know she cheated on you?” You asked him carefully. “Did she come clean to you?”

He looked down at his hands, zeroing in on the circular piece of silver metal that was wrapped snugly around his ring finger. “She didn’t have to. I found the messages on her phone.”

There was a moment of silence between you two while the reality of what he said sunk in.

“It was a fluke that I even found them,” he started, choking a bit on the raw emotion that was present now. “She asked me to answer a call from her mother while she was in the shower, which I did, but when the call ended, a text message thread popped up. It was a number I hadn’t seen before.. So I got a little nosy. Y/N, there were photos that dated as far back as six months ago.”

Unable to help yourself, you reached forward and took his hand, in which he laced his fingers through your own. You knew that whatever he had to say, he needed to get it out without any interruptions.

“I honestly thought I was doing it right, you know, the whole getting married with a white picket fence ordeal. Maybe one day start a family. After I lost Sammy, it just felt like I needed something that could lay down some roots, something permanent like wife and kid.” There was a pause when you heard the way his voice got thick with remorse. “I thought Lisa was that person for me, that she was the normal that I needed. And I was so wrong.”

You took several slow breaths as you tried to piece together what Dean was telling you. This was not where you saw this night heading, but you really had been walking in blind from the moment you let him in your apartment.

“Dean -” you started, but the way his voice had broken towards the end made you just want to forget about everything that was right and wrong and wrap him up in your arms. You wanted to fix the man that was so incredibly broken in front of you. “I know it probably hurts like hell, but us getting into bed together wasn’t the answer.”

He sighed, “I know.”

The admittance was out there in the silence of your apartment. It was so quiet now that you could hear your upstairs neighbor fighting with her boyfriend for the third night in a row. In the midst of it, you had a bold question bubble up. “So, why did you finally make a move on me?”

His hooded eyes slid over your face, trying to read the answer you were looking for. “What makes you think it was me who made the move?”

“Alright, I know we were drinking and all, but I know myself well enough to know that I tried, tried very hard to respect that ring on your finger. You know, until recent events.”

He gave a short laugh, like he almost found it funny, but knew the reality of it was much deeper. “Well, to be honest, I don’t know. To be even more honest, I’ve always had a little bit of a crush on you.”

You tried to fight the smirk, but his words made an irrational bout of hope bloom in your chest. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Don’t you dare ask me for how long because I swear it’s been for as long as I’ve known you.” An almost embarrassed smile took over his tired looking features. “But last Friday, I guess I was just feeling really vulnerable and was getting to the point of just not giving a shit.”

Much like you were feeling right now.

Dean took a deep breath while scooting himself closer to your tucked away frame and bringing your entangled hand into his lap. “Listen, I know that this isn’t right. I know that what I’ve just told you isn’t a good enough excuse for what we did, but damn it.”

The unasked question on your lips was wiped away when his own made contact. His hand let go of yours only to get lost in the tangled mess of your hair as he pulled you closer to him, pushing your mouths as close as they would go. It was a lingering kiss, the kind that could go deeper and make you feel things in places that you weren’t sure you were prepared for.

Despite every inch of your body screaming in protest, you broke away from those petal soft lips of his. “Dean.”

“Sorry,” he whispered, his eyes still closed and his body leaning close enough to you that his breath tickled against your jaw. “I just can’t help it.”

“You’re drunk.”

“And I still want you.”

“Winchester -” you started, but honestly didn’t even know what you were going to say. You literally had a crush on the man since he approached you at the front desk looking for some work at the construction site. At the time you hadn’t know he was married, but even when you found out it didn’t damper your feelings.

He was still looking at you in that way that made your stomach twist up tightly when he ran his tongue along his bottom lip. “Can I kiss you again?”

This time you didn’t need words for him to know your answer, but you did send up a silent prayer that the two of you could actually figure this shit out before it was too late.

 


	5. 5.

**5.**

You had been proud of your self control. 

While your body ached to have that man between your legs and to prove to him that he was good enough to have anything that his heart desired, you reminded yourself that he wasn’t in a healthy state of mind and it would be cruel to use that to your advantage. 

You had spent the night on the couch like a couple of high school kids; making out like dad might walk in any minute and catch you. It felt exhilarating. Around two in the morning, you casually asked Dean when he would be heading back home, to you know,  _ her. _

He gave you a half shrug, pulling his shirt back over his head before reaching a hand to pull you off the couch. “I had Sid cover for me. For all she knows I’m out having a guys night.”

Your legs felt like jello when you stood and it caught you off guard considering you were the sober one. “You don’t think she’ll be suspicious?” 

“I honestly don’t think she cares,” he answered, tugging your arm in the direction he knew your room to be. “Besides for all I know, she’s rejoicing in the fact that she can message her other man without distraction.” 

“You don’t know that Dean.”

“Mm,” he pulled you closer to his tall frame. “But I do know that. Half those messages were from nights that she told me to go out with Sid and those same nights I would end up too drunk to head home and passed out on Sid’s couch.”

You couldn’t help the way that you nuzzled up into his chest, feeling a little bit more relaxed. “I think you might have a drinking problem Winchester.” 

“And I think that we really need to get to bed or else I’m not going to work tomorrow.”

Knowing all too well that you should send him on his way, probably even call the man a taxi, you paused at his suggestion of crawling into bed with you. “Promise we are actually going to sleep?” 

“I’m not making any promises right now.” 

Before you could begin to protest to his lack of a commitment, Dean picked you up and threw you over his shoulder in one swift motion. The action made you sequel as he took three whole strides before playfully throwing you on the bed and crawling his way up your frame. “Dean,” you tried to soften your idiotic smile so that it was a little more serious. “Let me just be honest and say that I want nothing more than to spend a whole day in bed with you, but you’re still drunk and we have work in the morning.”

“And I’m married,” he sighed, leaning his head down so that it rested perfectly in between your breasts. 

“Yeah and there’s that.” Your hand absently made its way into his soft hair, running your fingers from the base of his neck to the top of his scalp and back again, repeating the gesture several times in just a couple minutes. “What are you going to do about that?” 

You didn’t have to look at him to know that his eyes were closed as he happily hummed into your chest. “What am I going to do about Lisa?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well,” he shifted so that he was able to lift his chin up to look at you, green eyes staring at you earnestly. “She doesn’t know that I know anything.”

“But you’re going to file for divorce right?” 

There was a lull. The kind of lull that made your stomach lurch with the urge to throw up. 

“I mean, yes. I am. But.. I don’t even know where to start.”

Deciding that you couldn’t take much more of this up and down roller coaster your emotions had been on today, you pulled Dean up to where your head was, pushing his own back into one of the pillows. Snuggling up to his chest, you spoke softly into the darkness, knowing from the way that his breathing was evening out, he would be asleep any second. “I can help you with that, but right now, I really don’t want to think about how I’m sharing my bed with a married man.” 

\--

“And just why are you so exhausted on this fine Friday?” Maryellen inquired from her spot next to you at the front desk, completely ignoring the phone that was blinking red with patrons stuck on hold. 

Yawning for probably the millionth time, you gave her a small shrug while reaching for your third cup of coffee of the day. “I just didn’t sleep well.” 

Your best friend raised her eyebrows at you just as a certain bow legged man passed through the main entrance of the office. His hair was still a mess from the shower he rushed through at your place and he was still wearing the same clothes he came over in, but what just about killed you was the way he glanced over at you while in the middle of his conversation with Sid.

“Would this lack of sleep have something to do with a certain Winchester?”

Her lively voice rang through the lobby, drawing the attention of the two men at the other end. You hushed her before ducking your face down like you were concentrating on fixing your computer monitor. “Dammit. Why do you always have to be so damn loud?”

“So I’m right!?” 

“Shhh,” you glared at her one last time before sitting up slowly, not even chancing a glance over where you knew Dean was. “No. It has nothing to do with Dean.” 

Like he knew that it was time to make things worse, Dean stauntered his way over to the front desk eyeing your best friend with a smug little smrk. “Mornin’ Maryellen.” 

“Morin’ Winchester,” she grinned, kicking you gently in your chair where Dean couldn’t see. “Will we be seeing your at happy hour tonight?”

“Just like every Friday,” he mused stealing a quick glance towards you. It weirdly delighted you to have this kind of secret between you and Dean. It was a dirty, dirty secret, but one that made you feel essential right now. “How about you, Y/N?” 

“Oh, she’ll be there,” your friend answered before turning to give you an all knowing look. “She doesn’t have a choice in the matter.” 

\--

Two beers in and you were growing more anxious by the minute. Dean had texted you an hour ago saying that he was on his way, but the man didn’t live that far. Your mind had a habit of rushing to find the worst possible scenario imaginable, leaving you to think that maybe he had gotten in some sort of horrible car accident and was bleeding out on the side of the road. 

Maryellen, as always, was off flirting with the bartender. She liked to argue that it was her way of scoring some free drinks, but you really knew that she was dying to see what that kid was like after hours. The girl was no saint between the sheets and had no plans of settling into just one bed any time soon.  

Forbidding yourself from glancing at the door again, you tried to focus on whatever game was playing on the the tv behind the bar. You nursed your beer for a couple more minutes until you heard a familiar deep voice rumble its way through the crowded bar. 

Turning yourself around to see the man of the hour, you had to do a double take. Dean was scanning the crowd when his eyes fell on you, but the light in them was short lived as the last person you wanted to see scooted up beside him. 

The two of you shared a knowing gaze before he mouthed a ‘sorry’ over the crowd. Lisa smiled up at her husband, unaware, before giving him a peck on the cheek; and that was your cue to turn around and call the bartender down for something a little bit stronger. 

\--

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to cut you off,” the swirly faced man in front of you spoke slowly, like he was stuck on the other end of a paper towel roll, causing a fit of giggles to bubble over your lips.

Smacking a heavy hand down on the wooden bar, you couldn’t stop the laughter as it spilled over flowed, much like your last shot of whiskey. “It’s.. tis all good,” you muttered, still fighting a cackle as you pointed a limp finger towards him. “I have ever more ofs the goods stuff at home.” 

“Is there someone who can take you there?” 

“I can,” said another voice coming in from your left. It was the kind of voice that made your stomach feel warm, like when you drink your favorite cup of tea while cuddled up in your favorite blanket. “Y/N?” 

“Dean!” You squealed, throwing and arm around his neck and bringing him almost nose to nose. With squinted eyes, you lowered your voice to just above a whisper. “I’m mad at you.” 

Even in this haze, you could still see that he was fighting the urge to smirk. Barely able to see his hands, you were able to note that he was using one hand to slide something across the bar to the man behind it and the other to scoop you up just under your bum. Dean was like a cat; quick and nimble, allowing him to cradle you in his arms and carry you out into the cold Michigan air in what felt like seconds. 

“You have every right to be mad at me,” he whispered, eyes focused ahead of him. 

The air was biting at your face causing you to burrow closer to the warmth of Dean’s chest. “Where’s Lisa?”

“She caught a ride.” 

“Mm,” you hummed into him feeling the warmth of the six shots of whiskey wash over you. “Does this mean we have to talk in the morning?”

Some type of emotion settled itself into the base of Dean’s throat as he pulled you in closer, protecting you from a new gust of wind. “Only if you want to baby girl.”


	6. 6.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smut; unprotected sex (use a condom my friends), oral sex (fem receiving)

**6.**

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, having some alcohol in your system gave you one of the best night's sleep you had in what felt like weeks. Now waking up and even thinking about facing the world, kind of, made you want to pick up the bottle and start the process all over again.

Kicking off the sheets you seemed to have gotten tangled in, you groaned feeling like your head weighed a million pounds. “Jesus fucking christ.”

“Well good morning to you too.”

You knew he’d be there, but still the sound of his deep voice seeping through the morning silence you had been so used to caught you by surprise. “Dammit Dean.”

By the time you had gotten completely untangled and found the strength to sit yourself up enough to look over at Dean, you were ready to drink a swimming pool. The man that made you feel like you needed to check into a mental hospital was perched in the corner of your room, sitting on the swivel chair that was usually always pushed into your little desk. “I found your aspirin - so there are two right next to you.”

Glancing at your night stand you found the two little white pills and two large bottles of water. You knew that most likely Dean had snuck out before you woke up to run to the corner store for that water, which kind of made you feel only a little bit guilty for how you handled last night.

Pinching your pills in between your fingers, you brought them to your lips avoiding staring at Dean for more than a split second. “So how much did I fuck up?”

“You didn’t fuck up at all,” he answered, cocking his head to the side. “If anything, I’m the one that needs to be apologizing to you.”

“For what? Bringing your wife with you for a night on the town.”

You may have been trying to keep your eyes off him, mainly because you didn’t know the details of how the night ended - again, but even you couldn’t miss the way he winched when you said the word ‘wife.’ “Just.. I need to say sorry for lot of things.”

Not liking the way he was shifting in his seat, you forced yourself to swing your legs over the side of the bed. “I’m getting really tired of this vague thing we have going on here Winchester.”

He sighed. “I know.”

“No, I really don’t think you do.”

He was watching you closely as you stood up slowly and began rooting through one of your dresser drawers for some clean clothes to put on after the shower you had decided you would be taking in matter of minutes. Nothing was worse than waking up feeling like you need to scrub yourself clean of your sins and leftover mascara.

“I told Lisa I want a divorce.”

The tenison you had been carrying in your shoulders melted away. “You did?”

Dean’s gaze was still on you, trying to read your body language when he clicked his tongue. “Yeah. After I got you all tucked into bed, you muttered something in your sleep that really hit me.”

“Do I want to know?” You asked hesitantly, squeezing your eyes shut as you turned to where he was sitting.

He let a smirk slip through his otherwise sober expression. “You told me that I felt like home.”

Was that what he felt like to you? Was that why you became a blubbering idiot whenever he was around? Because he felt like that one person you could be safe with, the one person that you always looked ahead to seeing. Coming home was always the one thing you looked forward to at the end of the day.

Dean shifted in his seat, still keeping his eyes still trained on you as you in turn stared at him questionably. “What does that have to do with you telling Lisa that you wanted a divorce?”

“Well,” he ran a hand over his face, looking more exhausted than he had in the last week. It made you question if he had actually gotten any sleep last night. “Honestly, I guess it really clicked to me that you can’t live in a broken home - the cracks will leak and the ceiling can cave in at any given time. Even if the foundation is uneven it can cause all kinds of irreversible damage.”

You got what he was saying, but still weren’t quite sure what it had to do with you and your drunken slip of honesty. “Okay?”

His face was looking at you, but his eyes seemed to be looking in the distance. “Something about the way you looked at me at the bar, it just made me ache. You may as well have just come over and sucker punched me in the gut. And watching you down those shots like water.. because of me.. well hurt even more.”

“So, again Winchester, what does this have to do with me?”

He shook his head and shifted his eyes to look at his hands. You followed his gaze and was stunned to see that a certain finger was lacking a piece of jewelry around it. “Because it you made me realize that I made a mistake. So, I told her at the bar that this wasn’t working anymore, which was shortly before I decided to take you home.”

You took a deep breath, not really quite sure what to say. “And that didn’t look suspicious to her?”

“She stormed off before I really got another word in edgewise. Of course, as I made my way over to you was when the bartender decided to cut you off and I decided to bring you home,” he stood up from the chair this time. “I haven’t spoken to her since.”

“Dean -” you started, but you really didn’t know what to say. It was exactly what you wanted to hear, so why did your chest still feel so heavy?

The man before you just kind of gave you a lazy shrug before taking the remaining steps to get to where you were embarrassingly clutching a pair of clean panties. You didn’t miss the way he eyed the delicate piece of cloth in your hands before gently tugging them out of your grasp and tossing them onto the unmade bed. Something about the way he was looking at you made your stomach squeeze.

“I know this is a lot to take in right now,” he spoke softly, fingers interlacing with your right hand while his free one came to brush some of your bedhead away from your eyes. “Hell, this is a lot to just happen in a week, but there is something that I want you to know.”

You tone matched his as the warmth from his hands washed over your body. “What’s that?”

“I want to be with you, more than anything in the world, but you have to understand that while I’m going through all of this, we.. we can’t really be public.”

Nodding, you lifted your chin up to look at him squarely. “I’m aware of that.”

“And you would be okay with that?”

Your bottom lip wedged itself between your teeth as you silently thought through what he was asking of you. Your heart was singing at the admission of him wanting to be with you, but at the cost of everything being behind closed doors - well, that excited you and concerned you. “You.. you’d only be with me?”

Dean smirked down at you, bringing his thumb down to pull your lip away from its imprisonment. “I’d be all yours, baby girl.”

“What about your living situation?”

“I know Sid would let me crash on his couch.”

Now it was your turn to smirk at him, “Or we could just let people think that’s where you were staying.”

“Hm,” he gently pushed you backwards until you felt the cool wood of your dresser seeping through your shirt. “That might be dangerous.”

“Didn’t you once tell me that ‘danger’ was your middle name?”

His tongue snaked its way out, making the heat pool at your center as it trace the plumpness of his lower lip. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Just when you started to answer, he pushed himself into you - his lips collided into yours, followed by his hips. You knew it hadn’t been that long since you had been with him in that way, but the way his body was feeling against your had you wanting to get all kinds of sweaty with him.

Like he was able to read your mind, Dean found a way to loop his fingers under the elastic of the panties you still had on - because at some point in the night you had found a way to wiggle out of your jeans, and yanked them down towards your knees.

When you went to make the move to unbuckle him, he paused. “No, no baby, right now I want to show you just how much you mean to me.”

The quietness of his voice and the way his eyes were boring into you while he spoke those words lit your skin on fire. Giving him a silent nod, he picked you up and carefully laid you on the bed, his body hovering over yours as he began a trail of kisses from your jaw, to between your breast and down your shirt clad stomach until he was hovering just over the spot he had just exposed.

Dean paused, using the moment to glance up at your in what you took as his way of asking for your approval to which you let out a soft moan at the anticipation of it all.

“You’re such a tease,” you whispered.

He didn’t say anything, just gave you that shit eating smirk of his before his tongue made its appearance once more before it found its way into your folds, teasing you briefly by lapping at your core. The sudden change had you already writhing beneath him until he pulled back allowing himself to nip at your clit gently, sending your nerves into overdrive.

“Fuuuuck.”

That seemed to get him going as his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud, switching up direction and keeping you on your toes. The curse words that were escaping you certainly weren’t what Dean was used to hearing from those pretty little lips of yours, but he couldn’t get enough. The way you squirmed under his tongue was making it harder to keep himself contained in his jeans. Needing to feel just how wet you were, you were surprised when he slid a single finger inside of you, both of you groaning at how good it felt.

His lips broke away for your pulsating core causing you to groan. “Baby girl, your making it really hard not to take you right now.”

Your grip on the pillow above your head loosened to trail down and pick him up by the chin, forcing him to look at your while you spoke, “Then take me Winchester. I’m all yours.”

“Damn right you are,” he agreed, sliding himself up so that he was on his knees and yanking off his belt and slipping his jeans down just enough to pull out his thick length. He gave it a two long strokes as he stared at your half naked body below him, your wetness pooling on the sheets. “You know how I know that?”

“How?”

He lowered himself down so that he was waiting at your entrance, another glance to make sure you were comfortable with what he was doing before it was followed by the tease of him using the tip of his cock to rub where you were most sensitive; making you ache for him even more.

Without much warning, he pushed his full length into you, both of you crying out at the sudden pleasure. “Because there is no other place that I would rather be.”

Divorce, mistakes, secrets - all of that was out the window as you both got lost in each other. Lips kissed every inch of skin that they could touch, his teeth nip at the skin just above your collarbone, your bodies molded into each other so well that it was almost as if your were two puzzle pieces that just needed to be jammed into place; over and over and over again.

Until you were sure you wouldn’t be able to walk for at least a week.

With one final thrust, Dean pulled himself out of you quickly while stroking himself at the speed in which he had been going before moving his hips to cover the top of your thigh with his warm release. When he had been able to get a solid breath in, he looked down at his handy work splayed out on the woman who was way too good for him.

“How about I join you for that shower?”


	7. 7.

**7.**

Sid had agreed to let Dean sleep on his couch. Your boyfriend, well, you weren’t really sure if that’s what you should be calling him yet, had explained that he and Lisa were going through some things and that he was in the process of filing for divorce. Of course there were questions, but not any that Dean felt like he could answer just yet. Especially when it had only been a little over a week since the news broke at work.

It had been all everyone was talking about. Turning the corner into the break room it’s what all the other secretaries were whispering about, even the men pouring their coffees pondering over what would make Dean ever want to leave Lisa. You never really noticed how much of a presence that Winchester left at Sonny & Co. Construction.

Maryellen was her usual twenty minutes late, prancing in with her Starbucks cup. You eyed her as you finished jotting down what the man on the other end of the line was saying, before promising that he would get a call back within a couple hours. “You really just spent about five bucks on a coffee when we have the stuff for free in the break room?”

“Ours is always burnt,” she answered, throwing her purse over the back of the chair before tucking her shirt in so that she could sit down.

“Then why don’t you just make a new pot?”

Her eyes squinted at you as she brought that cursed cup to her lips and took the longest possible sip. “They don’t pay me enough.”

“And I think someone just has an excuse for not having to do anything that doesn’t benefit her.”

“Ding, ding, ding!” She grinned bringing her cup up once more. Her blonde hair was sectioned off into long, blonde ringlets and the amount of effort she had put into her make-up this morning was not like her as was her sing-songy tone. “So, did you hear the news?”

“That somebody got lucky last night?”

“Uh-huh,” she grinned, taking a well manicured finger and jabbing it into your shoulder. “You.”

Feeling all the color drain from your face, you stared at Maryellen with wide eyes. “What - what do you mean?”

Her eyebrow quirked at the sudden change in your facial expression, but her tone stayed even. “You really didn’t hear that Dean is back on the market?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” you muttered shaking your head while trying to calm your racing heart; you felt like you had been caught trying to snake the last chocolate chip cookie. “He told me about it just the other day.”

“And you aren’t jumping for joy?”

Dean had already told he was coming in late today due to meeting with a lawyer to really get the ball rolling, but that didn’t stop you from looking at the door every two minutes. “Why would I be excited that one of my friends is getting a divorce?”

“Oh, I don’t know.. because maybe now you have a chance to be with him.”

If only she knew just how much of an opportunity you been having the last couple of days, but you still felt the need to play things cool. “Yeah.. but, he’s got a lot on his plate.”

“Hm, true. And the last thing you want to be is his rebound girl.”

She had a point there.

—

You had been channel surfing for the last hour while you waited for Dean to get to your apartment. You were interested to hear how his meeting went, since at work all you had been able to do was catch each other with brief, frequent little glances in between construction jobs; and you had been aching to share Maryellen’s little insight with him.

Not that you thought Dean was using you as a rebound to get over Lisa’s infidelity, but her words had been ringing through your head all day. Maybe you just needed a little reassurance.

Just as some late night talk show was about to start, you heard the beat of Dean’s heavy knock. Jumping up from your couch, you raced over the door throwing it open in desperation for the man on the other side of it. His usual backpack of overnight clothes and a toothbrush was swung over his shoulder and that smirk he always gave you had to be a permanent fixture these days.

“Hey there beautiful.”

Despite all the questions you had in the moment, you couldn’t fight back the grin you returned. “Hey handsome.”

“Miss me?” He asked while sauntering his way into your cramped space, making sure to brush his lips against yours as he passed by. “Cause I sure as hell couldn’t wait to get over here.”

His words made you think about all the things that he had thought about doing to you on his way over, but the more anxiety ridden part of your brain made you keep your hands clasped in front of you. Even though they were itching to feel his warm skin hidden underneath his shirt.

“I always miss you,” you locked the door and followed his lead to where he had ducked into your bedroom. When he turned to look you over, you were the one to notice just how tired he was looking - certainly all this late night sneaking around hadn’t been easy on either of you. “Trust me, I can’t wait for the day that we don’t have to hide all this.”

“Yeah,” his muttered. “Neither can I.”

You watched as he slipped off his boots while sitting on the edge of your bed. The way his fingers tugged and pulled on the laces and how his lengthy bow legs stretched out once he had kicked them off; before long he was slipping off his shirt, in the effort of getting more comfortable, giving you a very distracting view.

“Uhm,” you coughed, looking over at an old picture of you and Maryellen from high school that sat on the top of your dresser. “So, how was the meeting with the lawyer?”

“It wasn’t too bad,” his voice was muffled by the fabric of the dark shirt that was being pulled over his head, one that he had produced from his bag. “It really doesn’t look like this process will take longer than a year.”

“A year?”

He eyed you briefly while beginning the process of stripping off his jeans. “Yeah.”

“As in a whole twelve months?”

He paused, barely having one leg completely clad as he turned himself to get a good, solid look at you. You knew it was because you had the worst poker face ever, something that he had picked up from literally playing a game of poker with you. “Baby girl, in order for a divorce process to be finalized, it takes a year.”

Doing that thing you always did when you were even mildly upset, you brought your thumb to your lip, nipping at the corner of your nail. “I know.. I just.. I was kind of hoping you’d be the exception.”

He finished slipping over his jeans and had hastily threw on some sweatpants before taking the three steps to meet you at the threshold of your room. “Why is this bothering you so much right now?”

You stared at his sock clad feet, still tugging at the edge of your nail. “I had an interesting conversation with Maryellen today.”

“About?”

“Well, since I’ve literally had a crush on you for, like, ever,” you babbled, still keeping your head ducked. “She said she was surprised that I wasn’t practically throwing myself at you, which for the record, I wouldn’t have done even if we didn’t have our special little situation.”

Not having to look at him, you could feel the smug smile Dean was giving the top of your head. “And basically, Maryellen just pointed out that it wouldn’t be wise to express my feelings to you to prevent myself from being the rebound girl.”

There was a lengthy pause as you heard Dean suck in a deep breath. “Is that what you think you are? Just a rebound?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged.

“Y/N,” his fingers hooked it’s way under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Yes, I knew Lisa was cheating on me that night I went home with you, but you want to know what was running through my mind during the heat of it all?”

Not saying anything, you waited for his answer.

“I thought about how I couldn’t believe I was finally getting to be with you. Afterall, I had dreamt about it time and time again.”

Your chest swelled and as much as you tried to fight it, you felt the warmth of fresh tears springing up in your eyes - ones that were brought on by the words you had always wanted to hear. Trying to keep yourself from letting your emotions spill over, you answered with the usual banter, “Oh, so you only want me for my body, eh?”

The corner of his mouth tipped upwards as he leaned in, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “And this brilliant mind of yours, as well as,” he brushed some hair back from your shoulder before bringing his mouth to nip at your ear lobe, “these wonderful ears that have listened to all kinds of complaints and don’t even get me started on that mouth of yours.” This time his finger came and traced along your bottom lip, “Always giving the most real and honest advice out there.”

Now, he leaned down and planted a hard kiss on your collarbone. “Your body was just an added bonus.”

His words made you wiggle, feeling suddenly both under and over dressed in your baggy sweatpants and oversized t-shirt. You had never been the kind of person that was comfortable in her skin; sure, some days you felt like the hottest thing to grace this earth, but more often than not you found yourself comparing yourself to everyone around you. So, you had never been the kind of girl to take a compliment on her physique with ease.

“You’re just trying to get me naked.”

The laugh he gave rumbled through the both of you as he wrapped his arms around you, tugging you into his chest. “God woman, I’m going to show you just what I see.” 


	8. 8.

**8.**

It had to have been sometime after two in the morning when you awoke to what sounded like Dean’s deep voice echoing off the bedroom walls.

“Okay, okay, calm down,” he whispered the best he could, making you realize that he was probably on his phone - the one that he always kept next to him on your other night stand. “Are you sure that’s what you saw?”

You were holding your breath, trying to piece together who was on the other side of this phone call, but no one was coming to mind. Well, that was a lie, there was _one_ person who came to mind, but you had to think that it had been close to three weeks since the divorce filings, there would be no way in hell she would be trying something now.

“Alright, listen, and I need to remain calm,” there was a pause. “Remember where I kept the salt? Go and grab it, cover all the windows and under the door. Make sure that you have enough leftover to make a circle.”

Another pause and you felt the bed shift as he moved to stand, still keeping his voice hushed. “I’ll be over there shortly.”

You listened as you heard him slip on his jeans, trying to quiet the clang of his belt. You listened as you heard him shuffle for something in that little backpack you had grown to love seeing in your tiny little apartment. You listened as his sock clad feet padded across the bedroom floor, before squeezing your eyes shut when you sensed he was in front of you.

The heat of his body was all you felt when he leaned over your frame. Trying to keep yourself as “relaxed” as you could, attempting give the illusion that we were actually asleep, you felt the coolness of his lips push on your temple.

Holding your breath, you waited until you heard the click of your front door. You had finally gotten around to giving Dean the spare key so that he could come and go as he pleased, but the last thing you thought he would do would be using it to sneak out.

Without really giving yourself time to over analyze the situation, as much as your half awake brain was trying to convince you to do, you hopped up and ran to slip on some shoes. It was crazy, but you knew the only way you were going to get your brain to stop circling around who he was going to see at this time of night was to head over there.

Taking the back roads, to avoid being caught trailing him and having to answer the kind of questions you were sure you were ready to face, you found your way to the Braeden’s house and just like always, almost every single light was on in the place - lighting it up like a beacon for the whole world to see.

“No,” you whispered as you saw Dean’s pick-up whip into the driveway. Your heart sank as you saw the way he parked the car and raced out of the driver’s seat, fist pounding on the front door only for Lisa to swing it open in nothing, but a nightie.

If you could hear a person’s heartbreak, you could confirm that it happened when you saw the way that Lisa wrapped her arms around her supposed soon-to-be ex husband. You knew that you needed to get out of there, you just weren’t sure where to go.

\--

It must have been hours of you wasting gas just to circle around town, looking for anything that could keep your mind at bay. As promising as drowning your sorrows in a bottle of whiskey sounded, you knew it was only a short term solution for getting away from your problems. By the time the sun broke through, you found yourself in front of the local coffee shop.

Shutting off the engine, you looked down at your pajama clad legs while trying to decide if it was worth your wild to go in and get a caffeine fix. The idea of trying to face the day, and possible conversation, with anything other than a sugary, butterscotch flavored cappuccino sounded like utter hell.

Something buzzed in your coat pocket. Pulling your your phone, you saw a picture that you and Dean had taken together just a couple weeks ago flash across the screen. He was smiling, causing his eyes to crinkle up at the corners and you had been making some sort of goofy face that required your eyes to be crossed and your tongue to be lazily hanging out. You both looked so content with each other, but it was a feeling you couldn’t share with anyone else. Because you were his best little secret.

You hit the ignore button, but made note that this was the third time he had called you in the last thirty minutes. He had probably gotten home not too long ago and realized you weren’t there. A part of you wondered how that made him feel; guilty or forgotten?

Getting the courage to get out of the car, you swung open the car door before following the same action with the glass door of the coffee shop. It being six in the morning on a Thursday, it was only reasonable that there was a line of zombie like customers needing their fix.

Your phone buzzed once more in your pocket, but you just let it ring, knowing if it was important the person on the other line would leave a voicemail. By the time you reached the front of the line, you still weren’t sure just what you were jonesing for. Looking away from the menu above the cashier, you made awkward eye contact with the college aged kid before you. “If you were having a life crisis right now, what would you order?”

“Uh, a coffee.”

The kid didn’t need to be bombarded with your life problems. “Alright, can I have a coffee with two extra shots and maybe a pump or two of something with caramel in it.”

He nodded his head, blonde curls bouncing against his forehead as he repeated your order and giving you a total. Paying it, you made your way over to the small table with the single chair that was cozied up right by the store’s little fire place while you waited for your name to be called with your coffee.

Knowing that you were going to be spending most of you time here, you pulled out your phone, noticing how Dean had called you two more times while you were in line. Ignoring the missed calls, you pulled up your best friend’s number, shooting her a quick text explaining that you weren’t feeling too good and wouldn’t be in to work today.

She responded quickly wishing you to feel better because she wasn’t about to be coming in to work tomorrow all hungover. Despite how shitty you felt, her response made you laugh.

“Y/N!”

Glancing up, you saw a paper cup hit the counter before the barista behind the bar walked back to start another order, waiting for you to come and retrieve it. Shrugging off your jacket, you hung it on the back of your chair making sure it was your placeholder for the table, not that it was likely that people would be rushing to sit and sip some coffee when they all needed to be at work.

“Thank you,” you mumbled in the general direction of the girl tucked behind the giant espresso machine, not even sure if she heard you before heading back to your table.

Someone grabbed your forearm tightly, stalling you from taking another step forward. “Does your phone not work this morning?”

Your heart both fluttered and sunk at the sound of his voice. “Mornin’ to you too, Winchester.”

“That’s all you are going to say is, ‘mornin’’ to me?”

Shrugging enough that your arm was released from his grasp, you continued your trek back over to your abandoned jacket. “I mean, I could ask you how you found me.”

All too aware of the way his footsteps followed you back to your table, he pulled a spare chair away from the table next to you, swinging it around so that he was sitting across from you. “It’s called a GPS tracker.”

“You have a tracker on my phone?”

Dean shook his head, eyes still on you to the point you weren’t sure if he had blinked yet - let alone by how bloodshot they looked. “No, you have your location shared to all your contacts.”

“Oh.”

“Y/N,” he signed, running his hand through his hair and down the length of his exhausted looking face. “Where the hell have you been?”

You looked down at top of your cup, gently removing the lid to allow some of the heat to escape; the steam disappearing up into the air almost as soon as it had the freedom. “I’ve just been out driving.”

“Care to tell me why?”

You gave him a shrug, your throat closing up at the thought of even having to explain to him what you had seen when you tailed him, but knowing that if you didn’t it, would just build up and build up until you were certain you would explode. “I just.. I needed to clear my head.”

Dean leaned forward, a hand tentatively reaching across the table towards you. “You followed me this morning, didn’t you?”

Your silence seemed to be all the answer he needed because his hand retreated quickly, running through his hair once more. Dean looked over at you, his eyes roaming across your face as several thoughts ran through his head, probably trying to figure out just what you saw.

“Y/N, I can promise you right now, it’s not what you think.”

“Isn’t that what everyone always says when they get caught doing something they aren’t supposed to?”

He leaned forward, daring to cup your cheek so that you would look up at him and stop trying to busy yourself with the sleeve on your to-go cup. “There.. There is something you don’t know about me.”

“It would appear so.”

The bitterness in your tone was cold enough that Dean’s jaw set and he practically shivered despite his back being practically pressed against the fireplace. “No, really. There are some things about my past that you don’t know about.”

You glared at him, waiting for him to continue, but he seemed to be waiting for the okay that you even wanted to hear him speak. “Okay, then, do you care to share?”

“I,” he paused, bringing his hand back to clasp his other in front of him, everything from the tone of his voice to his overall demeanor was all business. “I was a hunter.”

Snickering, you noticed how his face didn’t change when yours did. “What? Like you shot game? What’s so brooding about that?”

“You know those tales about the things that go bump in the night?”

His tone was still unwavering, making you slightly concerned, even if you were still pretty pissed at him. “Like, the boogeyman?”

“Even worse.”

“There are worse things than the boogeyman?”

Dean looked around the little cafe before leaning in closer, giving you a full view of those green eyes of his. “How about the Devil?”


	9. 9.

**9.**

You stared at him from across the table, trying to judge if he was being serious or not. You had known Dean to be a prankster in the workplace, but usually only with his select group of guys, like Sid. Something about the evenness of his tone and the almost expectant look he was giving you was making your stomach churn.

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat, leaning away from the table a bit. “The Devil?”

“You know, Lucifer, the archangel who fell from heaven for betraying God.” His eyes pierced through you, “He’s very real. And believe me when I say, he’s a dick.”

The laughter that bubbled over was one of amusement and nervousness. There was no way on earth that Winchester was being serious; right? “And what? Next you’re going to tell me that God is going to smite me for having premarital sex or that vampires will come after me over a paper cut?”

He stayed silent, the only noise coming in from this tunnel vision that was closing in on you was the steady rise and fall of his chest. His mouth moved, but you were struggling to make out the words.

You shook your head at him. “Huh?”

He leaned forward to where you had leaned back, hands snaking out to grasp yours. “I said not as long as I’m around.”

“Dean - you’re scaring me.”

There was a bit of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes stayed stuck on you; the green was crisp against his freckled face. He was all business, a side of Dean you were not used to seeing. You wanted to go back to where you were just mad at him for sneaking out to go see his ex-wife, but instead a whole different can of worms was wiggling around at your feet.

The smirked faded as he saw the shell shocked look on your face. “Baby girl, are you okay?”

The coffee sitting in front of you seemed like an afterthought as your thoughts swirled in circles. You knew you weren’t moving, but that didn’t seem to stop the dizzy spell from coming on. “No, I don’t think I am.”

The seriousness in his eyes softened. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You can tell me you are just joking.”

“No, baby, I can’t do that. Cause that would be lying and one thing I need you to know for damn sure is that Dean Winchester ain’t no liar.”

“Dean,” you pushed the coffee to the center of the table now, using it almost as like a barrier from him. “You have to be just yanking my chain. Is this some way of you distracting from the fact that I saw you go back over to Lisa’s last night?”

He looked deflated as his heavy stare sunk down to your now abandoned paper cup. “You.. you would rather hear that I was cheating on you instead of the truth?”

“That is the truth isn’t it? She called you over to her house like a damsel in distress hoping to win you back.”

In the past, when Dean was joking around with you, he would pretend to be serious for a good couple of minutes, but the telltale sign was the way his eyes shined when they looked at you. Like the little bit of laughter he was trying to keep in was reflecting in them. Right now, there was no shine; just the gravity of what he was saying settling in.

He shifted in his seat, clearly getting more uncomfortable as the seconds passed. But when he looked back up at you again, for the first time ever in the two years that you had known the man, he looked beaten down. “Is that what you want me to tell you? That I cheated on you? Is that what you would believe?”

The way his voice cracked when he spoke made you want to cradle him in your arms, but the confusion and anger was still too strong as his snake it’s way back around your vocal chords. “I don’t know what to believe right now.”

“Y/N,” he exhaled, sinking down in his chair, a hand running over his jaw. “I am not lying. This is a no bullshit kind of conversation and to be quite frank the kind of conversation I never really wanted to have with, well, anyone ever again.”

Deciding it was in your best interest to just keep your mouth clamped shut, you just gave him nod. Your mind was still telling you that this was some sort of insane joke, and you really wanted to hear the punchline.

“When I met Lisa a couple years ago, after dipping out on her eight years prior, it was to solve a case.”

You couldn’t help a giggle at the picture your mind just created. “What like Sherlock Holmes?”

Even with his somber expression, he managed to give you a small smirk, just appreciating the fact that you even made a small joke at his expense. “Something along those lines,” he adjusted himself once more, stealing a glance around the shop. “I’m sure you remember all those random deaths that were happening around town some time ago?”

You knew exactly what he was talking about, it had been on the news for quite a bit - usually the widowers were crying about how some freak accident took their husbands away while a straight faced child just kind of stood next to them, unsure of what to do.

You nodded your head slowly, not getting where Dean was going with this. This was no longer an on-going joke, but more like a scary campfire story. “Yeah, yeah, I remember that.”

“Well, they weren’t random. Changelings were kidnapping children and posing as them to feed off their mothers while the Mother changeling was feeding off the children. Sam and I came in and offed the thing, but in the process exposed the dark world we live in with Lisa and Bed.”

The tunnel vision was happening again. “Wait, wait, wait,” you were shaking your head at him as he just watched you scoot away from the table even more. “What the fuck is a changeling?”

“No one really knows,” he just shrugged, like this was a completely normal conversation to be having this early in the morning. “There are several different lores trying to explain them, but no one can really know for sure.”

“Dean - this, this is just madness.”

“If you want to hear real madness, I can tell you that my brother and I helped stop the end of the world apocalypse, I’ve been to hell and back and one of my best friend’s was an angel.”

“Was?”

“You could say we don’t really talk any more.”

“And your brother?”

He looked down, his tongue slipping pass his lips. “Well, Sammy, I don’t really know where he is, but maybe in the cage that keeping the world at bay. Last time, I saw him he was jumping into a hole with Lucifer.”

“I can’t fucking believe this,” you whispered, hands on either side of your face, gently massaging the temples. “I just really can’t.”

“As I said earlier, Y/N, it wasn’t what you were thinking,” Dean cleared his throat, still looking beaten down, but a little less small before you. “As much as I hate to admit it, there are still some.. things out there that want my head. Lisa called me because Ben woke up screaming about something in his closet - she didn’t want to chance it and knew I was her best bet.”

A pang of jealousy pushed through your chest. “She’s a big girl. She could have figured it out.”

He gave you a light laugh, one that was filled with uncertainty. “Yeah, well, she knows the basics.”

You took a chance your next question, not really all that sure you wanted to know the answer. “And what are the basics exactly?”

Dean’s eyebrow quirked. “I thought you weren’t going to believe anything that I said - unless it was admitting to getting back together with Lisa.”

“Humor me.”

A quiet cough, laugh combo came from him as he situated himself at the table. This time bringing both arms up on the table and leaning forward on his elbows. “Well, it really depends on what you need to be fighting off.” He scanned you, taking in the way your arms were crossed across your chest. “But the basics are salt, silver, holy water and usual the anti-possession tattoo.”

You thought back to the tattoo on his chest; assuming that’s what he meant by an anti-possession tattoo. You had never really asked him what it meant to him, seeing as he was the kind of person who kept some things to himself, but half the time when you were admiring it - you were usually distracted by _other_ things.

“Yes, the same tattoo that I have on my chest.”

Your mouth swung open, you shut it quickly surprised at how he put together what was running through your mind. Then again, most of what Winchester did surprised you. “So, what? Monsters and crap are out to get you?”

“Every damn day of my life.”

Even though you were still royally pissed at the man, you knew that he wouldn't be telling you this for nothing. Although it was starting to sound like something out of an R.L. Stine’s book. “I still.. I still don’t know what to think Dean.”

He braved a hand towards you again, but this time you willingly took it. “Just promise me that you believe me, that you believe that I wouldn’t leave you for another woman.”

“You can’t tell me that’s what you didn’t do to Lisa,” the words came out so quickly you didn’t have time to stop them. “We slept together and then a week later you are telling her that you want a divorce.”

The grip on your hand went slack, but he didn’t remove it. “Y/N, I left Lisa because she cheated on me. I went home with you because I _want_ you. Hell, I might even go as far to say -”

He stopped, his mouth slamming shut. Something in the way that he looked away from you, suddenly embarrassed, sent your heart racing - the beat echoing around your ears like a pair of really badly played bongos. “Nevermind.”

“What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Dean, you’ve already told me a hell of a lot of stuff in the span of about twenty minutes or so,” you gulped down the knot in your throat. “What’s one more thing going to do?”

“Scare you off for good,” he joked, squeezing his hands out from under yours. Scooting his chair back, he stood up slowly, picking up your undrunk coffee and taking a sip. The look of disgust at how sweet it was on his face almost made you giggle. “Let’s just save that conversation for another day as long as you promise to come home with me right now.”

“Can we talk more at home?”

He nodded his head, seeming more relaxed since the start of your conversation. You still had a million and one questions, but one thing was for sure - Dean didn’t want to lose you. And you sure as hell weren’t ready to lose him.

Even if he was a little crazy. 


	10. 10.

**10.**

You trailed behind Dean’s truck again, this time with him constantly checking the rearview mirror to make sure that you were, indeed, following behind him. Dean Winchester had lost a lot of things in his life, but he seemed to really want to keep you in it; even if things were still on edge.

The one plus side of taking separate cars back to your place was the fact that you could use the quiet of your car to sort through your thoughts. And you had lots of them. For starters, Dean said the devil was a dick, did he mean that the devil was exactly how every single biblical piece of work out there described him or was he like that douchebag guy that continues to hit on you at the bar despite you telling him over and over again that you had a boyfriend?

“The fuck did he mean that there were monsters out there?” You mused aloud, staying focused on the license plate in front of you. “And the cage with his brother?”

Maybe he had just drank too much when he was younger or hit his head just a little too hard. Or maybe this was how he was coping with losing his brother. You’d heard of some people making up stories when they’ve lost a loved one just to make it easier on them. Maybe that’s what Dean was trying to do.

Then again, there was the way that he looked at you. It was a look that you had seen before, not with him, but with your own father - when he told you that he was dying. You didn’t believe him then and thought he was just being overdramatic about a chest cold when he landed in the hospital. Tests confirming what he had been trying to tell you for weeks.

You weren’t one to pray, but when things got really hard and you had no one to talk to; you would have conversations with your dad. At a red light, you stole a glance at the roof of your run down little vechile, “Dad, do you think I got myself into something a little too sticky?”

Not sure what you were waiting for, the light turned green and both you and Dean made your way toward the main intersection right before your apartment complex. You hated this intersection with a fiery passion, solely because no one knew how to properly stop. You had almost died several times because of idiots who thought they couldn’t be bothered to pause long enough to let another driver go along with their merry business.

Dean pulled through first, pausing once again to just narrowly avoid being hit by some speedster. You waited a couple of seconds, making sure that no one was coming your way, you pulled into the parking lot. Finding your reserved spot, you hopped out of the car breathing in the kind of air that held the promise of snow.

In two beats Dean was behind you, spinning you around to face him. “Hey baby. How are you feeling?”

“What do you mean Winchester?”

He gave you a side smirk, brushing some of your messy bed head out of your face; a gesture you were growing extremely fond of. “I couldn’t help but notice the way you were talking to yourself back there.”

Heat rose to your cheeks making them feel even more flush against the wind. “That’s embarrassing.”

“Or it’s adorable.”

You shuffled away from him, your slippers getting damp when you didn’t realize you had parked right on top of a giant puddle. “I’m sticking with it’s hella embarrassing.”

Beginning the three floor trek to your apartment, Dean fell into step behind you with ease. “So, are you going to tell me what you were talking to yourself about?”

“Uhm, I was just talking, you know, trying to make sense of things,” you muttered, wishing you didn’t live so high up. You took the same couple of staircases up to your residence every single day, but today it felt like you were climbing Mount Everest. “And I was just talking to my dad.”

“Your dad?” He asked. You could hear the way his voice rose at the question, almost like he was surprised by the confession. “Like, you were praying?”

The door came into view and you let out a heavy breath - reminding you just how much you had been meaning to cash in on all your ‘I’ll start going to the gym next week’ promises. “No, no, not praying per say.. Just.. you know making conversation.”

He stayed silent. Probably thinking you might be just a tad bit more crazy than he was, but he still followed you into the small space when you unlocked the door. Everything looked exactly the same as when you had left, even the bed was still a mess from you sudden departure as well as the leftover mug of tea that been left on the table half drunk.

Everything may look the same, but your world has been turned upside down.

“I do that too, you know.”

“Hm?”

“Talk to loved ones that, you know, have left us,” you turned to face him. Dean was leaning against the wall between your living room and bedroom, hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket. “I tend to talk to both my parents. Usually more my dad.”

Not too sure why, but you were surprised that he was telling you this, but then again, he really didn’t have anything to lose. If you were going to run away from him, you had several chances while in the car. “Why just your dad?”

“He, uh, he had a little bit more experience in the work that I do.”

You nodded your head, slipping off your jacket and absently tossing it on the couch. Every inch of your body felt like it was drained, probably because you were running on just two solid hours of sleep. “Right, the whole Sherlock Holmes gig.”

He chuckled, following your lead of stripping off layers until he was in just in a t-shirt in jeans. “I, mean, sort of. I always preferred the term a Hunter.”

“Cause you hunt things?”

“Damn straight.”

You both just stood there, smiling at each other like a pair of idiots. Dean filled out his t-shirt nicely, arms crossed showing you just how sturdy they were, and those jeans were snug in all the right places; meanwhile, you were looking like something that was tossed out of a moving vehicle and run over several times for good measure.

Dean was still looking at you when he took a couple steps forward. “Are we good?”

“Good in what sense?”

He sighed, pausing his journey and shoving his hands in his jeans. It almost was like he was trying to restrain himself from touching you, which right now you wanted nothing more in the world. You wanted everything to go back to how it was - except, maybe, not having to keep your relationship so under wraps. “Like, do you believe me?”

Your lip found its way between your teeth. “Yes and no,” you mumbled, earning you an exasperated look. “I believe you that you weren’t going out to have some midnight rendezvous with Lisa. I do, but this whole hunting things, saving people thing.. It’s a little much, don’t you think?”

“Baby,” he started, closing his eyes briefly, giving himself a moment to gather his thoughts. “As much as I really, really wish that I could say that I’m making all of this up - it’s very real. And it’s a real son of a bitch.”

You opened your mouth to explain that you might actually need proof on this one or to get on the level of hard liquor that he grew up drinking, when you were cut off by a rapid couple of knocks at the front door.

Dean and you both looked at each other. He asked you the silent question if you weren’t expecting anyone, to which you were only able to offer him a shrug. He raised his hand to you, signalling that you should stay where you were and he practically tip toed his way over to the door.

You watched quietly, and slightly amused, as he looked through your small peephole. A look of confusion was thrown your way before he swung open the door to reveal a very timid looking Sid. “Uh, hey Sid.”

“Oh, hey Dean,” he replied breathlessly, looking at him briefly before his eyes zeroed in on you. “I didn’t know you would be here.”

There was a panicked look shared between Dean and yourself as you closed the gap between you and the door. Clearly your throat you spoke, “Winchester was just here to make sure I was feeling okay. Maryellen told him that I wasn’t coming in today, so he just wanted to make sure I wasn’t stuck heaving over the toilet bowl all day.”

“Oh,” Sid eyed you up and down in the most defiling way you had ever seen; it was not like Dean’s best friend to ever look at you like that. “Well, you certainly look fine to me.”

You suddenly felt exposed, like Sid had just undressed you with his eyes. Hugging yourself, you scooted closer to where Dean was standing. The way he put his arm around your waist assured you that the way his friend looked at you was not missed.

Dean pulled you close to him, causing Sid to tilt his head and eye the hand that was gripping your waist so securely. “What are you doing here Sid?”

He didn’t even ask, just kind of waltzed into your apartment like he had been here before. Which he hadn’t, in fact, very few people knew where you lived and you kind of liked it that way. His hazel eyes scanned the room, taking in the mess of clothes on your couch and the way the little lamp on the side table, that you had turned on when you walked in, was flickering ever so slightly.

“I just wanted to check up on things.”

Dean was still gripping you and the door tightly. If you didn’t know any better, you would say it was scared to close all three of you in the confines of this small space. “Check up on what kind of things buddy?”

“Just the usual,” he grinned. “I always like to know what the oldest Winchester is up to now that his little brother is gone.”

He blinked and suddenly Dean was throwing you behind him, pushing you out of the apartment all together. “Get to my truck.” You started to protest, not even knowing where to begin or why you would do such a thing, but he was squeezing his keys into your hands. “NOW.”

Doing as he said, you ran down the steps, completely bypassing Mrs. Saunders and her groceries that you almost always offered to help carry up for her. You sprinted until you were out of breath and your socks were drenched to the point that your toes felt numb, but you didn’t stop until you were securely locked inside the driver's side of Dean’s truck.

Sid’s eyes had gone completely black. 


	11. 11.

**11.**

Every minute that ticked by with you alone in that truck was torture.

You wanted to know that Dean was okay, that your apartment was in one piece; hell, you just wanted to make sure that what you had just seen was simply because you were running on very, very minimal sleep.

By the time you had counted to four-hundred and sixty-eight, Dean emerged from the overhang that led visitors to the stairs and all the other apartments. He was out of breath, but his leather jacket was still intact as were all his limbs from where you were sitting. The two of you locked eyes through the windshield, causing you to start to open the driver’s side door.

Dean was quick to mouth the word, ‘no’ towards you which in turn made drop the lever like it was red hot. You watched as he didn’t even look both ways when he crossed the street, swinging open the driver’s side door causing you to scoot over.

“Are you okay?” Were the first words that escaped his mouth as he tried to catch his breath. When you nodded your head, he gave you the once -over with his eyes, seeing just how tore up your favorite sparkly unicorns socks were. “Did anyone try and grab you? Or say anything weird to you?”

You shook your head, unable to properly say words inat the moment. Dean seemed to take that as the go-ahead to grab your face in his hands and crash his lips into yours. His kiss was fervent and needy, his tongue wasting no time to slip past your lips and taste you urgently.

As much as you wanted to use this moment to forget everything in the last couple of hours, the more rational part of you was screaming. Gently, you pushed Dean away from you - planting one last lingering kiss on his mouth and leaning back to look at him. “Dean, what the fuck was that?”

His eyes were still on your mouth and you didn’t miss the way that his tongue lingered over where you had just been. “That - that was a demon.”

“Wait, what?”

Dean turned himself away from you and started up the car, making sure all the doors were locked and that the windows were rolled all the way up. “Well, when I told you that Lucifer was real, it was kind of implied that his little minions were as well.”

“But - but,” you stumbled over your words, once again trying to make sense of everything. It seemed the closer you got to Winchester, the less real your life seemed to be. “That was Sid!”

He focused on turning back out onto the same road that you had literally just turned in from, twisting the steering wheel as far to the right as it would go while keeping his attention on the road ahead of you - and on the rearview mirror. “That wasn’t Sid, baby. That was a demon wearing Sid like a meat suit.”

Something clicked in your head; something that you were ashamed had taken you so long to understand. “Wait, so, that’s why you have that tattoo?”

He stole a quick glance over at where you were squeezed up against him on the bench. “What did you think I meant by an anti-possession tattoo?”

“I don’t know.. I guess, you just threw a lot of new information at me and it just didn’t really click that demons can just take over people.”

“Yeah, well, it happens,” his voice was clipped, like he was running through several different ideas all at once.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you weren’t sure what to feel - shock? Unease? Sorry for yourself that you had to witness something so terrifying that you “What should we do?”

Another quick look in your direction, followed by an even sharper turn in the opposite. “There is somewhere we can go, but I don’t think you are going to like it.”

\--

Lisa was staring at Dean, utter disbelief written all across her face. She had to have asked over and over again if you both were sure that Sid had been possessed by a demon. Then she started asking Dean a bunch of other questions you didn’t even think to throw at him. She was firing her words at rapid speed, but Dean was returning fire just as fast.

“But why would Sid be coming after Y/N?” She asked, stepping in front onof you, blocking your view of Dean and allowing her to get a better look at the rugged hunter in front of you. “Wouldn’t he be trying to come after us?”

You scoffed, earning a hard look from both Dean and Lisa. You gave them a half, only slightly embarrassed shrug before busying yourself with asking Ben if you could borrow a pair of his socks, you stared at the massive hole where your big toe was exposed in the meantime. Trying your hardest not to listen in to what Lisa and Dean were going on about;, and failing miserably.

“What makes you think that Sid would come after you and Ben?” Dean’s tone was hushed, but still hard. You didn’t have to look over at them to know that Dean had stolen, yet another, glance in your direction. It was honestly a miracle that Lisa wasn’t catching on by now.

Now Lisa crossed her arms, giving him a pointed glare, while still wearing that little nightie you saw her open the door in the night before, but she had the courtesy of throwing on a tiny little robe to make it appear a little bit more conservative. Made you question why she dressed that way if Ben was always around.

“We are still married, you know.”

There a playful little smile that graced Dean’s lips. “And just what makes you think that a demon really pays attention to a silly piece of paper?”

“So our marriage was just a piece of paper to you?” She asked, her posture straightening like this was the fight she had been waiting for. “I have to say I’m surprised to hear you say that.”

Dean’s lips pursed. He turned his head away from the woman who was trying to burn a hole through him, rubbing his hand along his jaw; you could hear the way his scruff scratched against his finger tips.

“Lisa,” he paused, jaw clenched as he was still looking away from her. It didn’t take a genius to know that he was weighing his options on how to handle this right now. “I know about the affair.”

“What affair?”

You had to give credit where credit was do; the woman knew how to act all innocent and wounded. “Don’t play the vitreous virtuous one now.”

This wasn’t even your fight and your heart was beating likeas if you had just run a marathon. Was Dean really going to do this now? When you guy possibly had something on your tails that could show up at the doorstep at any moment? Not for nothing though, Dean had basically barged into the place, grabbing up a massive bag of salt that was the garage and made sure that every crnook and cranny was layered in the grainy stuff.   
“I really don’t have any idea what you are talking about,” she continued, shifting her weight on her bare feet. “If one of us were to cheat, it would only be safe to assume it would be you.”

His jaw was tight. “Stop.”

Her flighty little movements halted at the sound of his hardened voice bouncing off the walls. Ben had been hopping down the stairs with was looked like some Batman socks in hand when even he paused, looking between his mother and the remaining two guests.

“I found the text messages. I saw the pictures,” his voice was scary even, but the way that his eyes hooded over may have been even worse. “I don’t know who he is or really how long this had been going on, but don’t you DARE try and tell me that I was the one that fucked this up.”

Lisa looked like a fish out of water with the way her mouth was hinged open, just hanging idly there. “I-I-,” she stuttered, curling her arms into herself like she was suddenly cold. “I’m sorry.”

Dean gave a sort of grunt towards her. “Yeah, well, I don’t even think sorry will cut it.”

Now came the awkward quiet silence that filled the room. You only felt a little bad for Lisa as the silent tears came streaming down her face, but you knew the only reason that she was crying was because she had been caught. She wouldn’t be able to pin the blame of her failed marriage on Dean because he knew the truth.

“It still doesn’t explain why Sid was coming after Y/N,” she whispered, changing the subject, as Ben approached you with those fuzzy socks of his, handing them over before retreating back upstairs to his room. You only hoped that the poor little man didn’t hear what had just been shared. “Sid.. Sid was the one I was seeing.”

“My best friend?” Dean’s fists clenched at his sides; fingers opening and closing so tightly that you could see the knuckles turning white. “You were fucking my best friend?”

She mewled a bit, taking a couple steps back from where she had been standing her ground. You used this moment to your advantage, stepping in between the two. “Guys, I’m all about the honesty going on right now, but don’t you think we have bigger problems?”

Dean’s eyes met yours and the hatred brewing behind them made you want to shrink into a thumbtack;, and it wasn’t even directed at you. You watched as he stared at you, taking heavy breaths - he’s chest heaving with each breath until it was falling at an almost even rate.

His eyes twitched from you to where Lisa was hiding behind you. “You’re right,” he spoke, his voice still bitter. “I have more concerning things on my plate.”

\--

The rest of the day consisted of you trying to play peacemaker while resisting the massive urge to knock Lisa back into next year. Honestly, if you hadn’t seen the way Sid’s eyes eclipsed over when you did, you would still be going back and forth about the sanity in which Winchester’s head was in.

Sometime around two in the afternoon, Dean found you in the kitchen, just sitting at the tiny table with a steaming mug in hand. Thoughts were shuffling through your head like a deck of cards as you tried to sort through it all with your father in tow. Boy, did you wish that he was here now; he would have listened to everything you vomited out and not even question it until he had all the facts. You felt like maybe you had been on autopilot for a bit and when Ben, the polite little man that he was, offered you a cup of tea - you happily took it.

“Hey,” he whispered, coming up behind you and placing a hand on the nape on your neck. “How are you holding up?”

“About as good as you’d guess.”

His hand rubbing the spot it was on, feeling the tension that you had been holding onto since last night festers against his relaxing touch. “So, you’re saying you need a couple shots of whiskey in that cup, right?”

You gave a small chuckle. “That would just probably make it worse.”

“Then what would make it better baby?”

Shaking your head, you brought the steaming mug to your lips, but didn’t take a sip. “If I could wake up and just pretend this was all a really bad nightmare.”

The hand that was on your neck stiffened before being removed completely. You heard Dean’s feet shuffle behind you before the chair to your left pulled away and his body replaced it, kneeling down next to you. “Baby girl, this kind of nightmare follows me everywhere I go.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have no self control.  
> Please leave feedback - it always helps my brain keep going.


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